


Heart's Trial

by saraid



Series: Heart's Journey [2]
Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Bonding, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-16
Updated: 2015-06-16
Packaged: 2018-04-04 17:43:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4146957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saraid/pseuds/saraid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The mission.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heart's Trial

Heart's Trial

 

Nausea rolled through him and his head pounded, but Qui-Gon opened himself further to hisbondmate, and yet further, accepting as much of Obi-Wan's discomfort as he could. An unpleasant voice in his ear distracted him suddenly, though, and he felt the connection slip, and grit his teeth in frustration.

"Hey. You want another drink, you?" The barmaid, an unfortunate result of some mixed-species mating, was just the right height to bellow directly into his ear when she stood beside his seated form.

"Yes." Qui-Gon snapped back, then scolded himself mentally. It was not her fault that she was greatly unattractive and her voice could grate stones. Perhaps her parents had even been deeply in love and saw only beauty in their offspring...surely that was the only way they would risk having her.

She waddled back toward the bar, vestigial second arms hanging limply, and he returned his mind to his bondmate's, only to find that Obi-Wan had relinquished consciousness in his brief absence. This was not a barrier to his continued help, his bondmate's mind was like his own now, but he hesitated.

They had been hurried off Coruscant a bare forty-eight hours after the Council tested their bond, just long enough for them both to regain a measure of their senses - and feel the embarrassment of hindsight as they realized that half the Council had seen them in flagrante delicto- and then they were rushed to different ships, taken away with scarcely enough time for a decent kiss goodbye. A kiss that Qui-Gon had needed, badly. Even now he held it fixed in his mind: Obi-Wan's lithe, strong body against his, his Padawan's rich male scent in his lungs.

He took a deep breath, held it, let it out slowly.

The bond was so new, he wasn't sure, yet, what their boundaries were. They would have to set some limits, he knew that, it was one of the things they had been required to discuss early in the process, with the intention of knowing what they would want to limit after the bonding was complete. Forcing the bond early had prevented them from doing so and now they were working half-blind, stumbling a bit as they tried to establish parameters that should have been decided before.

Maintaining the bond was becoming an exercise in itself. Yes, they had been told that the extra mental effort would require that they eat more, but this was ridiculous. He was constantly hungry. Part of it, he knew, was a result of Obi-Wan's current condition, but he was hungry, too, himself. His Padawan Bondmate was currently half a solar system away, and Qui-Gon was keeping contact with him as easily as if he'd been across the room. No mean feat, it had impressed the hell out of the Council, who had declared their to be one of the strongest Bondings ever witnessed.

Qui-Gon had been instructed to keep his distance for two reasons - to lessen the chances his presence would be connected to Obi-Wan's staged kidnaping, and so that they could test the limits of this Bond.

Being a laboratory experiment did not appeal to either of them, but extending the knowledge of the Jedi was a part of their responsibility.

Digging into his cloak, Qui-Gon pulled out one of the ration bars he had started carrying and chewed thoughtfully.

Whatever the source of the Council's information, it had been sorely lacking. Flatly incorrect. From the moment the transaction was completed, his mate had been treated quite badly, as badly as the slavers could treat a human and still expect him to survive.

The sale had taken place in the back room of a dingy bar, much like this one, the seller another Jedi, female, her true nature well-concealed. Claiming that Obi-Wan was a brother making trouble for the family, she handed him over drugged and bound.

His pretty face got a good price and her story of her father's rage at his rebellious antics, plus a few well-placed, gentle mind touches, convinced the buyer that she had stumbled onto his side-line work by accident and that there would be no repercussions.

Feeling all of it from several miles away, Qui-Gon had winced as his lover was stripped, poked and prodded, the buyer not completely happy to learn he wasn't a virgin to male sex, and the Jedi Master had been relieved that Obi-Wan was completely unconscious for the whole experience.

When Obi-Wan had regained his mental facilities, he had been chained to a floor in a tiny cell, surrounded by other cells, naked, and as soon as his new owners - who had bought him from the original buyer not an hour after he was first sold - as soon as they realized he was awake, the beatings had started.

Calm, methodical, administered with the regularity of clockwork, three a day, morning, noon and night. The guards beat him until he was basically senseless, then went on to the next cell.

In addition, his mate had not been fed since his capture, nearly three days ago. Undoubtedly the slavers wanted to keep he and the others in the cells around him subservient, and starvation was one of the best ways to do that. Thirst was not a problem, but the water was drugged. They drank it knowing that, and knowing that if they didn't only a painful death awaited them.

This mission had already exceeded the parameters set by the Council, yet there had been no suggestion that it be given up, which concerned the Jedi Master deeply. How could they proceed if he didn't truth the Council's judgement? Were there things they were not being told? Was the situation vastly different than they had been told?

Though he often disagreed with the Council, Qui-Gon Jinn had never refused a mission or out-and-out accused them of being untruthful with him.

He'd suspected it before, but decided, privately, that they had reasons for their secrets.

Of course, if he would cooperate and behave, as they wanted him to, he would be on the Council and privy to their secrets.

For some reasons it wasn't an enticing prospect.

Especially now, with his Bondmate suffering, unprepared because of the information they had been given.

His attention was drawn back to his mate as the pain settled and Obi-Wan managed to gain control of his responses. The drugged water wasn't given until a couple of hours after the beatings, and it caused pain all its own.

Simply sitting here, listening, was not enough for Qui-Gon.

Would is be possible for him to transfer his own energy directly to Obi-Wan? Enough to make up for the lack of nourishment?

Intrigued by the thought, he reached out with his mind, and then stopped himself. His Padawan was managing to rest now, he could discuss it with him when he woke. He should take advantage of this break and move back to the ship to continue this in private.

As long as he concentrated on what they were learning, he didn't have to think about the other things that could happen to his mate.

 

It hurts.

The thought rang in Qui-Gon's head and he sat abruptly, nearly banging his head on the bunk above him. He had been assigned a very small personal ship, with only he and the pilot on board.

Loyal to the Jedi, the pilot was a gruff, rough-looking human by the name of Solo. If he had a first name, Qui-Gon had yet to hear it.

Obi-Wan? Dropping immediately into the link, he shuddered as his mate's pain became him own.

It hurts. The apprentice sounded more like the child he had once been, and it made Qui-Gon more alert, worried.

What, love? Your head?

They keep hitting me, Master.

Scarcely able to breathe, Qui-Gon struggled to control his instinctive reaction to this, and delved deeper into his mate's mind to see the truth of the situation for himself. Obi-Wan resisted, sluggishly, and the Jedi pushed harder, only to suddenly break through the barrier and find himself seeing through the younger man's eyes, inhabiting his body.

The pain hit him like a sledgehammer and he fell back into the floor, banging his head solidly on the wall behind him, but didn't even notice it.

Sorry, Master... The mental whisper was weak.

Rest. Qui-Gon ordered, allowing himself to fully occupy this space in his mate's mind. It was a strange sensation, and he'd never realized that the younger Jedi was slightly nearsighted, how had they missed that...? The blows rained down upon his back and sides as he breathed and sought his center here, outside his own skin, and tried to lie there and take them calmly.

Autonomic compensation. It comes easily once you're used to it. Obi-Wan responded to the thought about his eyesight, sounding barely-there. He was exhausted.

Let me take this for you. Qui-Gon said softly. I will be here when you return. He didn't know if Obi-wan could take shelter in his Master's body, but he didn't have to remain conscious now.

The beating was administered with an air of professional detachment. The spacers were uniformly dressed, all in nondescript blue jumpsuit, and they used simple boken, what amounted to practice swords, to deliver the blows.

Well-timed, evenly spaced, they covered the maximum amount of body and did the maximum amount of damage during the thirty minutes or so it lasted.

Struggling at first, Qui--Gon quickly got his reaction - Obi-Wan's reactions? - under control and was able to lie there and take it passively, which was what he supposed they wanted.

It was a well planned program, intended, he assumed, to beat all the resistance out of the slaves before they reached the site of the auction.

The pain flowed through him and out, the bruises vivid, the blood real, but none of it affected his thoughts.

The inevitability of it was a large part of the effectiveness, he decided when they were done. A final kick to his side, which wasn't quite hard enough to break ribs, and the three - one human, two aliens - left his cell and went to the next, where a young man, younger than Obi-Wan, lay still.

He didn't even protest as they entered.

Because he was in better physical condition that his Padawan at the moment, and said Padawan seemed to be sleeping peacefully, in the back of his own mind, Qui-Gon thought he should stay there for a while, but it seemed that he was having trouble reaching his own body.

It unnerved him, the sudden sensation that he was two places at once. Reaching for his own body, he dimly heard the forceful voice of Captain Solo, through the intercom, worried, the words overlaid with the helpless moans of the man in the next cell.

Obi-Wan... He pressed mentally, trying to rouse his apprentice, worried that leaving suddenly would leave the younger man open to the pain.

Qui-Gon? His name warbled shakily in his Bondmate's mind. Are you still here?

Yes, but I have to go. It's - hard - I'm getting confused.

It's okay, lover. With an effort that was visible - Qui-Gon actually saw the impulses run down Obi-Wan's nerves, a very strange sensation - the younger man gathered his mind around him and accepted back the control Qui-Gon was offering.

I will come back so you can rest. Qui-Gon promised. When there is no one to disturb me.

Yes, Master. Stiff with the pain, Obi-Wan managed a single mental caress as his Master left.

Gathering his thoughts, Qui-Gon took a few moments to be sure he was firmly seated in his own self before leaving the cabin and going in search of the pilot, who was in the small galley, pacing, looking angry.

"This place is getting hot. We need to move on." The loquacious man said, staring at him. With a long, blue robe covering his Jedi garb, Qui-Gon imagined that he looked a bit different, but the robe had been effective camouflage earlier. With the hood drawn up and the edge of it hanging in his dark eyes, it made his face very hard to see.

"Not exactly inconspicuous." The pilot observed. "Can we go now?"

"If you're wanted for something, now might be a good time to mention it." The Jedi replied, walking into the galley proper and helping himself to a piece of fruit. The hunger was stronger, and he wondered if it would be a permanent part of his life now.

Solo followed, looking disgruntled.

"I'm wanted to get home in one piece."

The short reply reminded Qui-Gon that this man, though employed by the Council, was on his side and he made a mental note to be kinder to him. Though he wasn't the friendliest human the Jedi had ever met, he did seem to be an excellent pilot who spent an inordinate amount of time caring for his ship.

"I will do my best to see that you return so." he said, slapping the man's back gentle, an expression of normal male bonding.

"My lady would appreciate it."

Quickly eating the fruit, then taking another, Qui-Gon spoke as he disposed of the remnants of the first.

"We can lift off, but you must stay in orbit until I tell you otherwise, or we receive a message from the Council."

"Yes, sir." With a roll of his eyes, Solo moved past him and they did a little dance getting around each other in the small corridor.

 

Back in his tiny cabin, in the small bunk bolted to the wall, Qui-Gon took the time to drink a large quantity of water, hoping he would be able to pass the benefit of it to his lover, and then lay down in his tunic and trousers, closing his eyes and seeking meditation.

Frustrated, he sat up again several minutes later.

He couldn't sink deep enough to make it worthwhile. The Bond was strong, throbbing on the surface of his consciousness, but he could not find the center of peace within himself.

This hadn't happened to him in twenty years or more.

Not allowing himself to be worried or afraid, he lay down again, situated himself comfortably, and sought the Bond, his essence flowing over it like water.

He scarcely felt the shiver of the metal skin as the ship powered up and took off.

The Bond expanded, filled his mind, and then he wasn't in his mind anymore, he was in Obi-Wan's, and it wasn't even a little bit crowded.

He might never get used to this, but who would want to?

It was incredible. Simply the most powerful thing he had ever experienced.

The most powerful thing he had ever heard or dreamed of.

And it was his. Because of this young man.

The Padawan slept, restlessly, his body unable to heal itself, hurting and objecting to that. But healing would give away his true nature, or at least draw unwanted attention, so he had to tolerate the pain and discomfort.

It wasn't much more than that, though his Master also sensed some mild shame related to normal body functions that were carried out whether Obi-Wan wanted them to be or not. All of the slaves - the Master did a quick mental check, came up with five - were in much the same condition.

Undoubtedly they would be bathed before they were put up for sale.

Master? Obi-Wan stirred, slightly, the movement more intent than action, and Qui-Gon hurried to soothe him, sending tendrils of peace and comfort into his young mind. It astonished him, that it was that easy to do. He thought it and it happened.

There had to be limits.

But now was not the time to find them.

Yes, Padawan. I'm here, as I said I would be. Exchange places with me, so that you may sleep peacefully.

But what about you? Waking somewhat, the younger man fought the pain, it caught him by surprise, and Qui-Gon stepped in to help him release it to the Force. This was learned early by Jedi trainees, but most were never tested this sorely, it was not surprising that Obi-Wan needed some assistance.

After the initial spasms passed he used his own mental abilities - given by the Force, carefully nurtured and trained for years - to ease his lover, who was still only semi-present - out of his head and into Qui-Gon's own.

Before Obi-Wan could protest the older man sent him back into sleep, keeping several mental ties between them even in slumber, and set about healing what he could of his padawan's injuries without making it too visible, a delicate use of the Force that Obi-Wan wasn't capable of - yet.

Qui-Gon never doubted that his Padawan would one day be capable of all that his master did, and would do it himself with far more grace and style.

He rested as best he could in Obi-Wan's body, finding little things to think about. The rate the younger man's heart beat at, the difference in height. It had never occurred to him that one person could completely occupy another's body, and he made copious mental notes on it, planning to write them all for the Council when he returned to his form.

The visible injuries could not be tampered with, but there was some inner bruising and damage that he could heal, and it lessened the pain significantly. Breathing became much easier when the bruised muscles of the lungs were eased, though only partially, as the surface bruise had to remain. After a time of this he found that he could sit, or the body could, and used a bit of scrap fabric left on the floor - probably torn from Obi-Wan's trousers when he was stripped upon arrival - to clean his face a bit, clearing crusted muck from his eyes and nostrils, making it still easier to breathe.

Then they came again, and he saw them coming. Rolling to his stomach, he pulled his arms over his head tightly, and took the beating stoically, and it didn't seem so bad this time. Fresh blood ran and new bruises rose, but they only kicked a few times and seemed willing to leave his head alone, as before. Of course, marking his face was dangerous, too much chance it would be permanent and then what would he be worth?

Through two more beatings he lay, resting between them and cleaning up a bit more. It seemed that initiative was not a bad thing, as far as the slavers were concerned, because after the third beating, the last of the day, they brought him a small bucket of water and another bit of cloth, which allowed him to wash more thoroughly. That would make Obi-Wan more comfortable when he returned, Qui-Gon knew.

His Padawan had slept, exhausted, the entire time. Twelve hours or more. But soon Qui-Gon knew that his own body, already ravenously hungry, would wake him and they would have to exchange bodies again. It pained him to leave Obi-Wan here, in these circumstances...why couldn't he, the Master, stay instead, and take this abuse for his Bondmate?

The others in the cells around him seemed to be taking note of his actions. One by one they began to accept the beatings, to lay submissively when their cells were entered, and try to clean themselves. When food was brought, it was slightly better, a little bit more. Greedily Qui-Gon ate, driven by the appetites of two bodies.

Master? Obi-Wan's soft call did not surprise him he had been watching his Padawan awake in his mind for nearly an hour. Obi-Wan had fought against it but Qui-Gon's body had insisted and finally prevailed.

I am here. How do you feel?

Still tired. A tendril of Force floated through the bond and the young man checked on his own body. Things feel better there. He sounded surprised.

I was given a chance to clean up, and a bit more food. You should do the same, eat and clean up, before you return. Perhaps some of it will carry over.

Yes, Master. Seeing that Qui-Gon was not badly hurt, and the pain was manageable, Obi-Wan reluctantly agreed.

Their minds spread along the bond, which was taking on the thickness of a heavy rope, spun of silver, and then they were both straddling it, with a presence in each mind.

This must be what it feels like to be a CuSoBran. Obi-Wan commented, referring to n alien species with a unique feature. Each CoSoBran was two people, in the same body, and each of their brains held two distinct personalities.

I had never wondered. Qui-Gon responded dryly, not sure if he liked the comparison. I feel that we are still separate people, my Padawan.

As we are, Master. Obi-Wan answered, standing and swaying, his mind unused to dealing with Qui-Gon's height and bulk. That's what makes our coming together so exciting. He sent a vivid mental image of the two of them, entwined around each other, as they had been nearly the entire two days after their Bonding. It made Qui-Gon shudder and then he was startled to find himself back in his own body very suddenly as Obi-Wan was pushed forcefully back into his, calling for him and sounding frightened. Master?!

Obi-Wan! Lurching, falling into the wall, the suddenness of the return robbing him of both grace and balance, Qui-Gon banged his elbow and knee painfully, but scarcely noticed it in the mental panic.

Qui-Gon! Obi-Wan's mental shout blasted through him, but it was a shout of worry, not pain or fear, and the bond snapped back into place like an overstretched binding cord, making them both shudder, sharing the sensation.

I'm here. Allowing his body to sink to the floor, the Jedi Master opened his mind as fully as he could, reaching for his padawan, for the limits of the bond.

I think we overdid it, Master. Obi-Wan's mental voice was still tired, but resigned.

I must concur. Sending as much strength as he could spare, Qui-Gon catalogued his own condition as various body parts checked in. He was ravenously hungry, dangerously dehydrated, and aching all over. This level of bonding is still an unknown, we can expect to make mistakes. I doubt there is anything we could do that would hurt us badly or permanently.

It was just so sudden. Obi-Wan returned. He was laying back down on the floor, the pain becoming hard to manage as his concentration was divided. Was there any chance it could have gone the other way? He sent a mental image of himself trapped in Qui-Gon's body, forever too tall and too thin and clumsy.

Excuse me? With a brief laugh his Master returned the favor, picturing himself always standing on his toes and reaching for things, braiding finicky padawan hair with square, strong hands.

Or this.... Obi-Wan rebutted with heads that always bumped the portals of doorways and the lack of dignity in ducking.

Hmph. Portraying the ache in a neck always tipped backwards while being kissed, Qui-Gon felt his body respond to that image a little too well.

I wish you could, Master. Obi-Wan's mental sigh was sad and bereft.

Yes, my t're. Qui-Gon sighed as well. The endearment he used was a rare one, borrowed from an obscure ancient language he had picked up somewhere, and Obi-Wan took the meaning directly from his mind instead of asking for a translation. Curiously he turned it, studied it, tasted it.

Hearts-love, Master? He sifted it for depth and found more. Only hearts love, the love of ages, love of effort.

Enjoying the impromptu lesson, Qui-Gon murmured a soft encouragement, both aloud and in his mind.

Yes, Obi-Wan, tell me what it means. I did not seek the word, it came to me. Tell me why.

I am the only love of your heart. The padawan sighed, closing his eyes and shifting to his side to be more comfortable, barely able to pillow his head on his hands. But ours is a love that we have worked for, that we will continue to work for, that deserves to be worked for.

And the reward will be a lifetime - many lifetimes - of joy and contentment. Qui-Gon finished, mimicking the posture on the floor of his cabin, unawares. Their minds were reaching across the bond again, touching, entwining, as their bodies at the moment could not.

No matter what happens outside of our minds, I will always be safe here. Obi-Wan sighed once again, and them conceded to the sleep that his body was demanding.

Always, t're. Wanting to follow him, the older man was instead driven from the floor by his hunger. Giving strength to his forcemate was draining. If he wanted to continue it, he would have to take extra care to keep his own well fed.

As he ate he felt Obi-Wan's dreams, and soothed his restlessness with his presence, marveling privately at the extent of their connection. It was all he had ever dreamed of, and more than he had believed possible.

 

The trip in the transport took several weeks, much longer than had been expected. The bonded pair routinely switched places so that Obi-Wan could rest and eat, and so his condition was better than that of the other captives.

Twice Captain Solo had to drop out of hyperspace to avoid being detected, and both times Qui-Gon was able to use the bond to locate his mate, amazing the surly Captain and even himself.

There was no word on the other pair, and they thought about them frequently, wondering if they were going through the same things. The beatings continued, but were relatively mild as long as he accepted them passively, and there was slightly more food offered, though it was barely tolerable.

When occupying Qui-Gon's form the younger man occasionally did more than sleep. He read the mission notes they had been given, and they discussed the too-obvious discrepancies between the notes and what they were experiencing.

Captured slaves were supposed to be taken to one of the unregulated planets, where they were auctioned off to the highest bidder. Many ended up in brothels, of course, but some were bought by individuals as well. But as far as Qui-Gon could tell, they were nowhere near the planets they had expected to be taken to, were actually still within the boundaries of the Republic

I think we are preparing to dock, Master. Obi-Wan's quiet mental comment drew Qui-Gon from a doze. Their habit of shifting bodies was proving to be exhausting, draining their reserves of energy and not leaving them enough time between to restore it properly. As a slave, Obi-Wan could not meditate without risking discovery, which would end the mission, if not his life, and the older man just barely had enough time to draw the Force to himself and pass it on to his apprentice, who would weaken or starve without it.

The other slaves were in poor shape. The beatings continued, regularly as clockwork, and the food had not improved since the first change. There was enough to sustain life, but only barely. Hunger and fear and pain had pared the bodies and faces of the others to grimly aesthetic lines, but Obi-Wan, thanks to his Bondmate, while still thinner and harder and weaker, was still more than a shadow of his former self.

We will reach orbit sometime tomorrow. He replied, waking fully, leaving the cabin to find Solo. You know we must wait until there is no danger our arrival will be connected to yours.

Of course, Master. The mental voice was hollowed. Though his spirit remained strong, the younger man was immensely weary.

I will be with you, t're. Always close enough to take your place should you need me to.

Thank you, Master. But I will bear this burden, I am strong enough. You will have the harder job, infiltrating the auction and gathering data.

I do not think so. A flat rejection of Obi-Wan's opinion that made him smile, so slightly no one else in the cargo hold could see it.

Yes, Master. He agreed, allowing his head to nod as he sat, back to the cage, and pretended to be dozing. In truth, he was reading the currents of Force and trying to discover as much as he could about their destination, but as always the guards did not talk among themselves and he was left in the dark.

Chained into a single line, by ankle, waist and wrist, the group of new slaves shuffled out of the ship's hold and down. There was some awkwardness and Obi-Wan allowed himself to touch the Force briefly to keep the young woman that walked in front of him on her feet. She seemed to have suffered the most in their confinement and he wished, sadly, that he could have spared her this.

The many and not the one, Padawan. His Master's thoughts drifted to him. They were actually physically closer at the moment than they had been in weeks, Solo's ship in a wide orbit around the planet that Obi-Wan had just landed on, but there seemed be some disturbance in their bond that was preventing them from communicating as easily as they had been.

So it seemed that his Bondmate's voice came from some great distance.

Our success guarantees her freedom and that of the others. Qui-Gon continued. Obi-Wan could feel the effort he made to push a surge of strength down the bond, and his breathing, which had been effortful, became easier. The broken rib had been healed, but the surface bruising made drawing a deep breath painful, and they had not been able to heal that, for fear it would be noticed.

Yes. He answered simply, needing all of his concentration and energy to keep up with the line, not tangle the chains, and keep those in front of and behind him walking. There was no doubt in his mind that a fall would bring them all down, and that they would be punished for it.

All of them.

As he took careful, half-size steps, he looked around as much as he dared. To draw attention to himself would be bad. But he needed to get as much information to his mate as he could, despite the effort of sending.

Just keep your eyes open and I will look for myself. Qui-Gon's voice calmed him, eased the first stirrings of pained anxiety that were rising. Without responding he did as told, feeling Qui-Gon's presence hovering at the edges of the bond, almost in his mind but not quite.

It was as close as they had come to being in the same mind at once. Neither of them thought that a good idea, as it would leave one body defenseless, and just the concept felt wrong.

They were not the same person, and the depth of their Bond should not make them so.

There were people in the streets, people who ignored them as they were led by. Humanoid, for the most part, though he saw one Hutt and several other races that he couldn't quite name. He could feel Qui-Gon accessing his own memory, stretching his consciousness across the space between them, trying to identify any of them.

The streets were paved with stone that hurt battered bare feet, and the woman before him stumbled again. Drawing the Force - and wincing when it did not come easily - Obi-Wan had to choose between letting her fall and doing something more active to prevent it.

Without a thought he went to one knee and, with a shift of his shoulder, caught her across his raised leg, using his chin and chest to stabilize her, preventing her from landing on her head and further injuring herself.

The line stopped with a few lurches.

Good catch. Qui-Gon praised, worried.

He had good reason to be. It was only seconds before a guard was on them, his weapon rising and falling in a regular pattern as he beat Obi-Wan about the head and shoulders.

Master!! The young Jedi wailed, unprepared for the abuse and unable to shield himself with his limbs shackled.

Let it go, let it go, let it go, Obi, my love, it can't go on forever, just let it go...

A wave of empathy and calm enveloped him and he sensed how much it cost Qui-Gon to send it, as he absorbed it gratefully and allowed his shoulders to slump, accepting the beating the way they had learned would make it shorter.

But still he protected the woman with his body.

Taking the worst of it for himself, he hoped that she would be able to walk again and that they would not be forced to drastic measures. Perhaps now that they were on a planet she wouldn't be killed outright...

It ended as quickly as it had begun, and left him with a ringing head and new bruises, plus the sensation of wetness trailing down the side of his face. He's been cut, and was bleeding. But there was nothing he could do about it now.

Her eyes opened and she stared at him. They were close enough to kiss.

"Get up, please." He whispered in standard. "They will kill you if you do not."

"I can't."

Glancing around, he saw that the guards seemed to have decided it was time for a break, they were congregated at a the front of a shop that sold meat, cooked and stuck on sticks. They seemed to be in a large bazaar of some sort.

"I'll help." he said, and called to the Force again. Her eyes, bloodshot and sunken, widened in surprise as the power of the Force flowed into her and she gasped, taking a deep, whooping breath, and then coughing slightly.

"It should be enough to keep you on your feet, but I cannot do more." Sorrowfully, Obi-Wan shifted, feeling the swelling that was beginning in his knee, mashed to the stones by her weight and the beating.

"You are - what are -?" Cautiously she groped at him, and managed to gain her feet, using him as a lever, and, to Obi-Wan's pleasure, the man chained in front of her half-turned and offered her his arm, which allowed her to pull all the way up.

"I am as you are." He said softly, seeing the guards returning to them. There was no chance they were going to attempt escape in their positions. "Beaten and in chains. There is nothing else."

Her eyes darkened and she nodded. He hoped it was a promise to keep his secret.

Rising to his own feet was a huge effort, he struggled with it for several minutes, fighting for balance and strength, and Qui-Gon finally reached out and lifted him, with a silent mental moan of pain.

The Force is sluggish here. Obi-Wan commented as he stood, swaying. The blood from his head was filling one eye, leaving a red mist over the scene before him.

It is the Dark Side, influencing this place.

Where are we? The shambling march began again, and he tried to keep up. The man behind him gave him a shove whenever he lagged and he appreciated it, sortof, unsure if it was meant kindly or no.

Betaleguese. It's a republic planet known for their exports of grain. There's no previous record of slave trading or piracy here.

There was a large, dark building of stone in the rough center, and the guards were leading them into it.

Obi-Wan gagged and forced himself to breathe shallowly as the stench of the place hit him.

Human waste, unwashed bodies, sickness - it was all there, and the still air was thick with it.

The woman in front of him retched helplessly and he scooted up to try to give her something to lean against, but the man behind him growled a quiet obscenity and yanked him back.

She staggered but did not fall and Obi-Wan was relieved, because he didn't think there would be any Force here he could touch.

It is there, love. Qui-Gon was still with him, stretched thin by the effort required. I can't access it from here, but you could if you had to.

That's good to know.

It was dark inside, lit only by flickering torches, the bright blue sunlight of the bazaar cut off abruptly just a few feet inside. No windows, no ventilation.

They stopped and Obi-Wan focused his energy on turning his head around, looking, letting Qui-Gon see all there was to see.

It was a maze of cages, mostly small, though several larger ones were packed with groups of like beings.

One, close to the wall on the right, was filled with humanoid children, packed in like animals.

Obi-Wan winced.

Narrow spaces between the cages allowed for passage of what appeared to be patrons and more guards, these in filthy, worn clothing.

Running the length of two sides was a walkway of sorts, several feet wide and off the floor, with a railing. Staring at it, Obi-Wan tried to make out what he was seeing, but it didn't register for many moments.

One of the guards was talking quietly with one of the men that surfaced from the hellhole, gesturing at the chained line, pointing at them individually, shaking his head. Negotiating, Obi-Wan assumed.

There were people on the walkway, but they were all fastened oddly. Bent over what appeared to be wooden barriers, they were nude, and shackled - with their legs spread? He didn't understand, his eyes adapted to the darkness, and then he saw.

And started violently, earning himself another painful yank from the man behind him and a frightened glance from the woman in front.

They were naked, shackled, legs spread.... on display, like slaughtered pigs.

The very thought made him quiver internally.

Be strong. Qui-Gon eased, soothed.

The man used a comlink and soon another man came from the maze. This one was wearing clean clothing, expensive, and had an air of authority.

With a dismissive gesture he sent the guards on their way, then walked around the chained line, eyeing them all carefully.

"Any information on them?" He asked the man at his side, who pulled a scum-encrusted datapad from a pocket somewhere and flipped it on.

"That one-" He pointed at the woman, "Her husband sold her because she's barren."

"This one was embarrassing his father and his siblings wanted to get rid of him..." he pointed to Obi-Wan, who flinched, as expected, and kept his eyes on the scummy ground.

They went down the line and then others arrived and started separating them.

Pausing by Obi-Wan the man in charge looked him over again, carefully.

"He's too old to bring anything as a pet, but maybe one of the brothels will take him."

Too old? Qui-Gon sounded disconcerted.

This is not what we expected it to be, Master. Obi-Wan said stiffly, letting his anger at the Council surface momentarily as he was taken from the others. Then he saw where he was being led, and balked, setting his feet and trying to fight.

Master, I don't want to do this! I don't want to go there..!

They were taking him to the walkway, where he would be put on display.

Easy, Padawan, easy. Let them do what they will, it will not change anything between us. They will not hurt you.

Master, I can't, I don't think I can, Qui-Gon!

His mental wail echoed in his own head, and then Qui-Gon was there - just for a nanosecond, there in his head with him, wrapping him in a smothering force-blanket of warmth and love and calm. It was over before he could really acknowledge it, and then his Master was thrown from him, their Bond crushed beneath the weight of darkness in this place.

But it left Obi-Wan with the strength and calm to face this future, and he stopped fighting, slumping and hanging in the arms that held him, allowing himself to be dragged to a wooden barrier.

Folded over it, his head resting on a small platform built into the other side, arms and legs spread wide and locked into place, it gave a prospective customer access to any part of his body except a narrow band across his upper chest.

Although eased by the warmth Qui-Gon had left for him, he was still anxious and wanted to feel his Bondmate's mind, but could not reach him, which was terrifying.

They had not been so far apart mentally since they bonded.

Searching for solace, he touched on the mental tag Mace Windu had left in his mind. And, desperate, he reached out to it, sending his anguish and shame and fear across the lightyears, unknowing if it would be received by anyone.

Then he set himself to prepare for whatever ordeal he would face.

 

"We must land!" Shouting at Captain Solo, Qui-Gon threw himself into the cockpit of the ship. "We must land now!"

Turning, the man in the pilot's seat started at him, startled.

"You ordered me to wait until tomorrow, Master Jinn."

"I was wrong. Land now."

"You told me that order could not be changed, no matter what you said." Narrowing his eyes, the pilot glared at him.

"I was wrong." Qui-Gon repeated, hearing the desperation in his voice. How long could they survive without the Bond between them? Would Obi-Wan be able to maintain himself alone, in his current condition?

Wrapping his arms over his chest, he stared at the pilot and wondered how far the man would go to obey those orders.

Since he himself was considering ignoring his own.

He took a deep breath. Then another.

"I will be in my cabin." He said flatly, leaving Solo to puzzle it out on his own.

If he could meditate he should be able to reconnect the bond. It wasn't broken, just smothered. It would always be there between them...

The floor was hard but he did not notice, not even bothering to reach for something to cushion it with, as he sank into a trance and reached for his Bondmate, sending his mind along the badly-stretched line of their connection, delicately shoring it up with whatever energy he had left.

Would it be enough?

 

For the third time since their arrival, Obi-Wan felt the presence of someone behind him. He shuddered, as was expected of him, and flinched when a large hand settled on his upraised ass, squeezing the cheeks and making deep, appreciative noises.

The heavy finger that poked into his anus hurt, it burned, and he struggled slightly, but a second person - a woman, this time - was coming around in front of him, tilting his head back, forcing his jaw open and checking his teeth.

It was humiliating, the way the man's hand traveled over his stomach and grasped his slack cock, tugging at it, measuring it.

The finger forced in deeper and he whined.

Though he was no longer a virgin, the two days they had had to make love regularly had not been long enough to make him open for this kind of intrusion or his body accustomed to it. He heard the man grunt a word in standard - "Tight." approvingly.

"You sure he's not a virgin?" The woman's voice was pleasant.

His ass cheeks were spread wide and a light flared as the man looked at him closely.

"No. There's some scarring. He's been fucked before. Just not often or not in a long time."

"Can't pass him off as virgin, I suppose." She sounded aggrieved.

"No, and he's too old, too. But he's really very attractive, underneath all that dirt."

"You do have an eye for the pretty ones. I'll make an offer."

They left, and soon after Obi-Wan found himself being unshackled and led to a small, cramped cage, right beside the one with the children. He shuddered to think that they had seen him exposed like that, but was too exhausted to speak, and they scarcely looked at him anyhow.

Ranging in age from four to ten or so, they were all filthy and thin and looked as if they lived with despair.

If all he managed to do was free these children, he decided as he let his eyes slip closed, all the pain and humiliation would have been worth it.

 

Alone in his cabin, Qui-Gon felt the tug as Obi-Wan reached out through the pathway Mace had formed. He tried, but couldn't reach his partner through it.

There was a chance Mace had actually heard/felt the touch, and Qui-Gon wondered what he would make of it. Their orders forbid contacting the Council, so Obi-Wan was technically in violation, but he doubted they would level any harsh penalties, considering the circumstances.

The others would be here soon, and this would be over with.

Soon.

 

He couldn't tell if the sale had gone through. He didn't know if he should hope it had if he was sold, then his part of the mission would be complete and Qui-Gon would be free to rescue him if he could feel him again, once he was out of this place.

The two that had examined him spoke to the slavemaster, and there seemed to be some discussion. Obi-Wan watched, without a lot of interest, until they left, seemingly with a bargain struck, judging by the smiles all around.

The slavemaster came over to his cage and beckoned one of the keepers over.

"Feed this one, and give him some cloths and water to clean up with."

"He going out tonight?"

"They want a bigger shipment, so we're holding him until they have a full load. There will be more coming in tonight."

Obi-Wan feigned disinterest as they spoke. He noticed one of the children creeping closer to the bars, away from the huddle the others were in. It was hard to tell if it were a boy are girl beneath the filth, but it had very long hair hanging in mats down its back.

"Please, sir..." Even the voice wasn't telling. A small hand grabbed the slavemaster's leg and pulled. Obi-Wan shifted, ready to stand up and do something if the man became violent with the child. He didn't know what he could do, but he'd think of something. Draw attention to himself, which would lead to another beating, but that would be okay if he left the child alone..

"What is it, mouse?" the man seemed more amused than angry.

"My sister, she's very hungry..."

"And you think I should waste credits feeding a scrawny thing like that?" He shook his leg and the child's hand fell free.

"Please..."

"We can make a deal, mouse." The slavemaster crouched down beside the cage and reached in to touch the child's head. "You're a pretty little fellow. How about, you come stay with me for a while and I'll give your sister some good food?"

"Nooo..." Obi-Wan groaned. The boy looked at him, then back at the slavemaster.

"Can I come back here after?"

Obi-Wan shuddered. It was clear that this child he couldn't have been older than ten standard years this child knew exactly what he was doing, bartering like that. How long had they been slaves?"

"No!" Obi-Wan said loudly, sitting up. He was hit between the shoulder blades from behind and folded over, pain roaring through him. Behind him a keeper laughed roughly.

"As long as you stay with me, your sister will be fed, " the slavemaster pulled out his ring of keys and dangled them in front of the boy.

"How will I know?" he had done this before, he wasn't going to be tricked into selling himself for nothing. Obi-Wan groaned and closed his eyes, his stomach rolling violently. To witness this....

"I'll let you visit her, once every day until she is sold."

"You can't sell her! She needs me!" the child cried out in sudden pain as he shouted, and Obi-Wan resisted the urge to help him. There was nothing he could do. The Force would barely answer his call.

"If I can't sell her, then she's no good to me. You would have to stay with me a long time to make it worth my while to keep her." the man was taunting the child.

"Kyro, don't do it. I'm okay." a second child emerged from the silent, suffering pile. She was only slightly smaller than the first. "He should take me, to work for my own food."

"You're kind of ugly, worm," she was told. Obi-Wan opened his eyes and stared at her.

Her face twisted at the words, but no tears fell.

"Better to be ugly and not be noticed." she snapped back.

"Kio, be quiet. You're going to starve."

"Better to starve," she took her brother's arm and pulled him back to the pile. He resisted, but not much. "We'll get bought soon, and maybe the new owners will feed us better."

"It will be too late..."

"Yes, it will, worm." The slavemaster stood up. He spoke loudly to the nearest keeper.

"These get no food and half water rations. Until the boy asks for me."

"All of them?" The keeper seemed touched by the cruelty of that gesture.

"Every last one. They're practically worthless; not trained for anything, too small to work. I'll be lucky if I can get someone to take them off my hands."

Obi-Wan shuddered, thinking. The value of a child based on its ability to labor. Sexual favors were the only way they had a chance at survival.

He was here for the right reasons. All he had to do was hang on, and Qui-Gon would save him.

His Bondmate would fix everything.

 

He couldn't fix anything.

Sitting in his cabin, waiting with the unending patience of Jedi Master, which was really not unending and only barely patient Qui-Gon searched through the Force for a solution to this dilemma.

Obi-Wan had been touched, and violated, but that was nothing compared to what would happen to these children.

They were supposed to wait until both Obi-Wan and Cur-Wil were on the planet. Then he and Nik-Hal could effect the rescue, as well as gather evidence against the slavers to be presented to the Senate committee. It would be used as leverage, to force them to turn over their contacts and buyers. A process which would undoubtedly lead to the embarrassment and disgrace of some of the Senators themselves.

As he thought about it, he understood that there was more behind the no contact decision.

The Jedi Council did not want the Senate to know what they were doing. For good reason, Qui-Gon understood now.

He waited.

 

The children were whimpering, but quietly. In the far corner of his pen, Obi-Wan watched them. His eyes half-closed, his breathing deep and steady, he feigned sleep, but really he was watching them.

The worst part about it was that they didn't object. They didn't cry or scream or beg for mercy. It was clear they all knew how useless that would be.

The girl, Kyro, kept close to her brother. Obi-Wan had plenty of opportunity to observe them over the last two days. The slaver had spoken truthfully. She was painfully unattractive. But even at her age she had realized that her ugliness might better serve her than being a sex toy for perverts.

He'd had little contact with Qui-Gon the situation was so painful, the circumstances so dire, despite that he knew for a fact his master had seen and felt worse, Obi-Wan simply couldn't bear to let him sink into this mess. He could handle it on his own. His situation was actually improved. He was clean, he had blankets, and better food than before. Still afraid, of course, but not the same fear the others had. He knew he would be saved at the proverbial last minute, even without the Council's blessing. He had Qui-Gon.

The pile of children shifted slightly and the boy was pushed toward the outside, where it was coldest. He didn't protest the treatment, though his sister followed him.

The others hadn't asked him to give in, or threatened or begged, any more than they'd done to the guards. They seemed to know that they weren't strong enough to force him to do anything, though he was smaller and fairer than the rest.

Moving across his cage slowly, Obi-Wan curled his blankets around him and lay against the side nearest the two children.

In his hand he held several pieces of bread, saved from his last few meals. It wasn't much, but it might be enough to let them sleep. All of them.

"Hey..." he whispered. Head down, eyes hidden.

The girl stirred but didn't look at him. A guard passed on his rounds. They were too undisciplined to schedule them regularly.

He poked his stick through the bars but didn't shock Obi-Wan, just poked him.

The Jedi lay still.

The guard laughed, and went on.

"I have something -" when he was out of sight, on the other side of the next bank of pens, Obi-Wan stuffed a piece of the bread through the bars. "A little bit for everyone."

"no," the brother whispered back. He sounded horrified. "He'll kill you and us."

"He can't afford to kill me. I'm already sold." trying to make light of it, Obi-Wan shrugged. If they thought he knew the rules and accepted them as well as they did, they might be more willing to take it.

"Just a piece." he pushed it through. Kyro grabbed it before it hit the floor. He marveled at her reflexes. Her physical condition was so poor -

Hm. He had to think about this. There were Jedi with a particular gift for this very thing; reading the potential in infants and children. Kyro was older than most when they came to Temple, but not too old, he didn't think. Four years, perhaps five. Too old for her age, but that could be a bonus. She'd obviously learned to hide anything she could do.

Her brother watched them both with dark, worried eyes.

"More?"

She nodded. Obi-Wan began pushing the bread through, a piece at a time. Each one vanished too fast for him to see. She hid them he couldn't' tell where.

When he'd handed over all the bread it had been quick, if they were caught it would be bad Obi-Wan relaxed on the floor and closed his eyes. The two children moved back toward the group. He wanted to watch them. Not to make sure they shared the bounty, he had no doubt they would. Just to see that they managed it without being noticed by the guards. And how they managed it.

Almost asleep, he felt Qui-Gon inside his mind. His mate wanted to be let in, wanted to talk to him, wanted to touch him. Tired and vulnerable, Obi-Wan slipped the bonds of physical form and let him.

Why have you kept me away? Qui-Gon sounded wounded, and worried.

You know why. Back to childish stubbornness, and why did that please his mate so much?

This will soon be over. Soothing waves of comfort slipped through Obi-Wan. The ship carrying Cur-Wil landed tonight. We will be able to free you as soon as I contact Nik-Hal.

Good. Unable to say more, Obi-Wan tried to explain about the girl, Kyro, without words.

I understand. The kindest word in any language. You're worn, t're. Let me share this with you. We can trade, and you can rest in comfort and warmth.

Obi-Wan was tempted.

You would take it all, if I allowed it. he scolded weakly. No. Your part has been written as well.

If you would only let me. Qui-Gon admitted softly.

Let me sleep, old man. Sweet and reassuring, to have him there, so close though so far. Enough. Not much longer now.

No. Qui-Gon settled into a corner of his mind, his presence hot and dark and comforting.

It will be soon.

A sudden noise brought Obi-Wan to his knees. He had to cling to the bars to keep his balance, but he could see well enough.

The door to his cage had been opened, and a man was being stuffed in, rather brutally. He was bloodied and beaten and painfully nude...

Obi-Wan had to bite back words that would only bring more pain for all.

Jedi Knight Cur-Wil lay like the dead on the cold floor of Obi-Wan's pen.

He waited for the slavers to walk away, then crawled toward the other man. He had to bite his lip to keep from screaming as he got closer and saw the extent of the damage.

Cur had not been so fortunate as Obi-Wan. The blood dried thickly on his buttocks and thighs testified to brutal rape, the bruises that covered the rest of him proved how hard he had fought against it.

Unwrapping one of his own blankets, Obi-Wan covered the man, then sat with his back to the cage door and pulled him awkwardly into his lap. He embraced him, tucking the bloodied face into the crook of his shoulder, his hand in matted, crunchy hair.

Reaching for his master, he wasn't that surprised to find him asleep. Restless and fretful, but sleeping nonetheless. So Obi-Wan decided to do what he could for Cur-Wil on his own. The visible bruises would need to stay once again, but he could help the internal injuries and the infection he could smell spreading through him from the torn anal passage.

It took most of the night. By morning CurWil was beginning to wake. He didn't flinch or fight. Obi-Wan suspected he could feel the Force around them and knew who he was with.

Though they had only met briefly before the mission, and the knight was a few years older than he, but Obi-Wan had ample opportunity to study him while attempting the healing.

Cur-Wil was an exceptionally attractive man. Not quite beautiful, his skin and features were too fine to be called handsome. He fell somewhere between the ethereal beauty of young elves and the utterly fem beauty of women. It was easy to see why his captors had been unable to resist what they saw.

"Kenobi," he said, his voice raw, probably from screaming.

"I've fixed what I could," Obi-Wan told him softly. The guards were coming by again, so he held him close and eyed them suspiciously. They might take offense that he touched the other slave.

"Do not waste your strength. It isn't important."

"You would die otherwise."

Stillness in the body he held, and no response from the man. Too tired to be angry, Obi-Wan understood what this meant and didn't comment. There would be plenty of time, and help, back on Coruscant. Once Cur was reunited with his bondmate, the feelings he was having could be addressed, his emotional wounds treated. For now all Obi-Wan could do was hold him and offer comfort.

It wouldn't be long now, he knew. With both of them here and the sales completed, Qui-Gon and Cur's bondmate could save them. With that thought in mind, he waited until the guards had passed them again, then called quietly to Kyro. She came over fearfully he realized there was a probability that she expected him to demand some sort of repayment for the bread he had given but sat beside the bars and listened, her gaze elsewhere, while he gave a simple explanation.

"There's no such thing as Jedi," she whispered fiercely when he was done.

"There are." He couldn't resist a smile. "We are. Just stay low and keep quiet. I'll get you out as soon as I can."

The look she gave him was frankly disbelieving, but she crawled back to the others and seemed to be speaking to them. Her brother grabbed onto her and they cuddled. Obi-Wan was glad to see that.

He waited. Dawn would come soon. With it there would be food, and fresh water and, hopefully, rescue.

There wasn't much time. Now that he knew they would be saved, if all went well, he was ashamed of the panic he'd felt days earlier. Being touched and violated that way had been humiliating, but nothing compared to what others had suffered. Especially the children.

He regretted his desperate attempt to contact Master Windu. There was no way he could do it again, and explain; not without the fear that had boosted that first try.

Now he sat quietly and lent strength to the wounded man he held. Another Jedi, a Knight, bonded from birth. Obi-Wan tried to imagine what that would be like; to have someone in his head all the time. It sounded scary, and wonderful. What had it been like when they were infants? Did they trade mental baby talk? Did one of them mature faster than the other?

He would have to look that up, see how many cases there were. He might write a paper on it.

 

Obi-Wan the quiet mental voice barely stirred him. He'd sat, still and silent, for the better part of the morning. As soon as the guards had left this corridor he'd pushed the food they brought through to the children. They took it more eagerly than the day before. It seemed they were beginning to trust him.

The sitting was half rest and half meditation, though he wasn't going very deep.

I'm here. he answered, sending tendrils seeking through his mate's mind. You're Tired.

I am fine. quiet scold with a chuckle. You're a shadow of yourself.

It's temporary. He shared images of Cur's injuries and what he'd done to heal them.

You're coming soon?

We're right outside. Knight Hal is concerned that his mate has not contacted him. It seems they haven't communicated for the majority of the mission.

Now you know why. Knight Wil isn't responding well to the abuse.

He will be saved.

Obi-Wan found himself nodding, and knew Qui-Gon felt it.

You'll be coming in soon?

As soon as the guard changes.

Looking around, for the first time since dawn, Obi-Wan saw that the guards were gathering near the front, as they always did before a shift changed. They seemed to have decent working hours and probably good pay. The circumstances were horrible, but these men seemed suited to it.

They're starting to gather he told Qui-Gon. I'll tell the children to get down.

I cannot wait to see you Qui-Gon replied, and Obi-Wan felt that it was, literally, true.

Moving quickly now, his exhaustion and injuries set aside, he tucked Cur against the bars beside the children's pen and poked a hand through to grab at Kyro, who was close. The gifts of food seemed to be winning her over.

"Get over here and keep low," he whispered urgently. The new shift of guards was coming in. They hadn't started for the pens yet, still up front in the display area. One of them looked toward him, and he hoped they really couldn't see that much from where they were.

"There's going to be trouble in a minute try to get everyone over here where I can protect you."

"Protect us how?!" her brother snarled back, pulling her away from him. "We know about ones like you if I wouldn't give her to him to save us, d'ya think I'm gonna give 'er to you?!"

"No, Kio -" she protested, but he pulled her away to the others. She was speaking, whispering in a hiss, and several of the other children came creeping toward him. He motioned them down, fingers wrapped around the bars. Gripping tightly, he began to channel Force through them, weakening them for that crucial moment when he would be able to break through and gather all of the children to his protection. He had to get them all together, with Cur.

It started suddenly. He heard the familiar, and sorely missed sound of his master's lightsaber suddenly ring through the air. His hand groped automatically for his, missing the weight at his waist. He glanced over long enough to see the head Trader come out of the back and run toward the front, while the guards drew their blaster and returned fire.

A flash of beige on the far side Nik-Hal, headed for them. Taking the long way around.

Obi-Wan grimaced and shoved with the Force, harder than he could ever remember doing. The bars between the two pens disintegrated he started grabbing children and tucking them around Cur and behind him.

"Come!" he hissed at Kyro and Kio. "Come to me I'll protect you. We'll get you out."

"No!" the boy cried back. Obi-Wan winced, he'd drawn the trader's attention. "He'll kill us!"

Survival was everything, to a small boy who lived as a slave.

Taking a precious few seconds to look around, Obi-wan saw several things. Each triggered an emotion inside him.

The first was, of course, his master. Framed by the giant doors of the slave depot, blue afternoon sun streaming through the darkness behind him, Qui-Gon towered over the slavers, his 'saber flashing like lightning as he caught and returned their fire, keeping them engaged.

With his hair flying and his 'saber flashing and his body twisting, Obi-wan felt a rush of love and lust so powerful he almost staggered. He saw Qui-Gon feel it as well his bondmate looked directly at him, and gifted him with a many-toothed, hungry smile.

That second of contact passed as Nik-Hal came around the corner of the corridor from the right. His 'saber was a brilliant red, the color of a crimson sun. when he raised it over his head it cast his face is a red glow that made him look unholy.

At Obi-Wan's feet, Cur-Wil stirred. His eyes opened and he managed to turn himself over.

One hand reached for his mate.

Pride and pity warred in Obi-Wan. Pride won out. He bent to help the man sit.

As he bent down the head slaver came around from the left. He had a blaster, and two more guards with him. They were all aiming at the children.

The most damming evidence against them in any court. Children bought and sold. Obi-Wan was horrified when he realized they meant to kill them first.

Fifteen feet away, Kyro and Kio huddled, silent but crying. He threw an arm out, grabbed for them with the Force, and felt it slip though his fingers. The Darkness of this place was closing in, reasserting itself.

"CUR!" Nik-Hal shrieked. There was no dignity in it, only terror. Obi-Wan looked down to see the wounded man throwing himself over the pile of children, protecting them with his body.

Blaster shots whizzed around them.

"Go " the man looked up and Obi-Wan understood. He threw himself across the pen, to offer the same protection to the girl and her brother. With a child under each arm fighting him as if he meant to hurt them he rolled into a corner and curled around them, twisting to see what was happening on the other side.

It was rare that you could predict what would happen during a battle. There was only the willingness to do whatever you had to.

Cur had been hit by several blaster shots. There were raw, burned patches on his back and shoulders. He made no move to protect himself. Obi-Wan wondered, terribly, if he was dead.

Nik clearly thought the same thing. As the Darkness closed in, his 'saber faded. He ignored his vulnerability and continued to advance, using what he could of the Force to shield himself, yet taking several blasts as well.

Obi-Wan watched, partially in awe, as the Knight caught and returned several blaster shots using only his hands and the Force. He'd never seen that done.

Then it was over. The heroic advance was halted as three- no, four - shots hit him squarely in the chest and it dissolved in a cloud of red mist, eerily reminiscent of his saber glow.

He fell. Obi-wan heard himself whimper. And felt Qui-Gon's touch in his mind, offering as much strength as his master had to offer. Qui-Gon's fabled connection to the Living Force enabled him to fight off the Darkness of evil that hung here with his help, Obi-Wan found a weapon, and used it.

The remaining cage bars were lifted, and thrown the few feet to the slaver and guards. They didn't have time to escape it - it landed heavily on them, pinning them, broken bars ripping through their flesh.

Blasters fell from dying hands.

It was over.

"Obi-Wan!" Qui-Gon's bellow lacked dignity but held something far more important. Love and terror. He scrambled to his feet, the children abandoned, and got to Cur's side as fast as he could.

With shaking hands he rolled the doomed man over.

Awareness in bloodied eyes that met his.

"Nik..." Cur rasped.

Obi-Wan looked over at Nik-Hal's body.

It seemed that he, too, had survived for the moment. His hand was blindly searching the cold bloody floor.

Grabbing Cur by the shoulders, Obi-Wan drug him, painfully, toward his mate. Maybe what they had was enough. Maybe they could somehow heal each other, or hang on long enough for help to arrive. Maybe he and Qui-Gon could -

His master came to his side, and handed him his lightsaber. Obi-Wan took it and pressed his lips against it, taking comfort in the cold metal and warm Forcebuzz.

He leaned into Qui-Gon's side. His master was already reaching for the nearest child. A small boy practically climbed his leg. Not crying, barely breathing, it didn't stop until Qui-Gon lifted him in his arms. Then several more moved toward him.

Obi-Wan watched while Cur-Wil and Nik-Hal found each other. Their hands met, and clasped. Then they were still.

He felt them pass into the Force, and gasped at the pain of it, turning to Qui-Gon. He didn't even realize he was crying until his master touched the tears on his cheeks, and bent to kiss his eyes.

"They could not have survived the damage," Qui-Gon told him, so gently. "Their bonding was different than ours. It could not withstand his violation."

"You knew that?"

"I did not understand until I spoke with Knight Hal this morning."

Obi-Wan leaned into him, and put an arm around him. The embrace was hindered by the children that swarmed them.

He was silent for a moment, then lifted his head.

"It's getting lighter."

"Indeed."

It wasn't getting lighter in a physical sense. The Force was working to re-establish the balance in this place where Darkness had taken over so completely.

"Their sacrifice will lend much to that effort," Qui-Gon observed.

"I would rather they'd lived." Obi-Wan commented. With an effort he pushed himself away from his mate. The bond had settled between them for the moment and he felt only the ease of being in his master's presence.

He held out a hand toward Kyro and Kio. She came quickly, but he hesitated. "They're Jedi!" his sister scolded him.

"There's no such thing as Jedi," he retorted. But he came and stood beside her, beside Obi-Wan. Who was suddenly aware of the screaming and cursing and pleading that surrounded them. All of the other slaves, still in their pens. Many of them wounded, some dead from stray blaster shots. All of them wanting out, out, out.

"When will the reinforcements arrive?" he asked Qui-Gon.

"Within the hour. The timing wasn't perfect." he seemed apologetic about that. Obi-Wan reached up and grabbed him by the neck, pulling his head down.

"I love you," he said fiercely. And he kissed him, as hard as he could. He opened himself as wide as he could and felt the welcome loss of self in the center of them.

When Qui-Gon carefully pulled away moments later, he was breathing faster, and looking somewhat cross.

"Take the children out. My pilot is waiting. They can be fed and cleaned. I will begin the work here."

It wasn't work they would finish. The bond was demanding its due. They had been apart far too long.

It took a few minutes to convince the children that it was safe to leave Qui-Gon, but the lure of food and sunshine was enough to get them all going eventually. As they walked past pens filled with other slaves, all adults, they began to speak as Obi-Wan did.

"Help is coming. Sit and rest, you're safe now. The Jedi are here. More are coming."

With the Force rebalancing itself, he was able to calm and sooth many, and convince them to wait until the rest of the help arrived. As they passed, speaking quietly, Kyro taking the lead for the children, slaves sat in the pens. They began to smile. Many started to cry.

The Jedi keep their promises. They would all be freed. Even if some were found to be criminals, they would not be prosecuted for those crimes. This was punishment enough for anyone.

"We'll let you. We'll bring food and clothes. You'll be able to go home."

 

Master

Yes, t're?

What time are we leaving?

Thirty units

Good. I'm ready

Looking around the emptied slave depot, Obi-Wan walked across the huge space to a pile of flowers on the floor.

With encouragement, the children had put them there. A few at a time. Eventually most of the freed slaves had come back to pay their respects to the Jedi that had died saving them.

It was the largest slave operation ever broken. Obi-Wan wanted to be prouder of it. Happier. But the loss of these two hurt him, deep inside. Surely there had been another way to do this. The Council had stumbled badly, sending Cur-Wil into that situation.

Most of the slaves were being quartered on a colony ship sent by the Council. They were allowed to come and go freely as arrangements were made to return them to their home planets, if that was where they wanted to go. For those born into slavery, homes and jobs would be found on Coruscant, or elsewhere if they chose.

Kyro would be taken into the Temple, her brother as well. They'd been through too much together to separate them now. Her future as a Jedi apprentice would do that soon enough, but there would be a place for him, a life for him, there where he could be near her.

Obi-Wan wasn't worried about them anymore. He'd done what he'd been assigned.

Now he stood still, one booted foot touching to untidy pile of strewn blossoms. Some were faded, others were fresh.

In his hand he held two field flowers he had picked outside the city that morning. They weren't expensive or valuable. They were only a representation of the sorrow he felt.

He hadn't lost any friends here. He'd scarcely known the two Knights that had died here.

It was the potential of their friendship, the potential of their future, the pain of their entire planet, that Obi-Wan mourned for.

Cleansed by Healers and opened to the air, there was little Darkness left here. Obi-Wan pulled the petals off the flowers and dropped them from an upraised hand. They floated down gracefully, scattering themselves over the mound.

Nice touch he heard in his mind. He started, looking around slowly.

You should tell them that we appreciate it

There was a hint of humor in the mental voices, which were distinctly different despite the similarities he heard as well.

"Are you two going to hang around here forever?" he asked aloud. A weight lifted from his heart and he wished he could see them. It would be nice to replace the image he had on them now in his memory; lying side-by-side in death, bloody and bruised. Shattered.

we're free now

Obi-Wan waited, but nothing more came. He sighed, and walked slowly out of the building. The Jedi had claimed it, and would probably use it as a warehouse of some sort. Or a safe house. They had few facilities this far out on the frontier.

It was just a building now. The pain and humiliation it had sheltered his own included had faded and would eventually vanish over time.

I'm coming up now

I'm waiting for you

A wave of lust and devotion flooded him. Obi-Wan quickened his pace. There had been little time to do more than rest and cuddle in the days following the rescue.

"We'll be leaving orbit in about ten minutes." The pilot greeted him when Obi-Wan stuck his head in the cockpit to check on things.

"Wonderful."

"Bet you're ready to leave it behind." the man threw him a friendly smile.

Obi-Wan thought about Cur and Nik and smiled.

"Yes, but not the memories."

The man nodded, though it was clear he didn't understand.

"I needed to tell you that we're not to be disturbed for the next several days. Save messages and ignore, if you would."

"I can do that," Solo grimaced. "We'll make good time. I'm ready to be home as well."

After checking the displays and seeing that everything was well in hand, Obi-Wan walked down the small hallway and opened the door to the cabin.

Qui-Gon was lying on the bunk, book in hand. Literally in hand; his hands were so big he could hold an open book in one of them.

His other arm was lying across the blanket, hand half-curled. Obi-Wan shut the door, and looked at that hand.

Simple and beautiful, it was the hand of a Master, and also of his Master. His lover, his mate.

His past and future.

Who just happened to be lying there naked.

"You were serious about waiting for me," he grinned, and began to strip.

"Of course."

The book was set aside, and he was watched with hot blue eyes.

Obi-Wan took off his clothes and left them where they fell. He walked over and put a knee on the bed.

I am ready for you Qui-Gon reached for him every way possible; with his hands, his body, his heart and his mind. Obi-Wan welcomed it, falling into the bond with a joyful abandon he hadn't known he could feel.

When Qui-Gon said he was ready, he'd meant it literally, as Obi-Wan soon found out. His mate drew him between his legs and wrapped those long legs around Obi-Wan's waist, his hands on his shoulders, urging him to enter.

Leaning forward, Obi-Wan took his mouth, and accepted the invitation. Soon, but still not soon enough, they were once again completely entwined with one another, physically and mentally. Words no longer wanted, they shared the emotions and longings of the past weeks.

Movement came, and was recognized. Bodies demanded it. Satisfaction remained just out of reach.

"Force..." Obi-Wan groaned aloud, pushing himself up and back onto his knees. He held onto Qui-Gon's thighs like a lifeline as awareness returned and he realized how hard he was, how hot Qui-Gon was and how good he smelled.

A glance at the chrono showed that hours had passed. Spent together, out of touch with any reality other than the one they created.

"Please -" Qui-Gon gasped. One hand freed itself from the blankets to grasp his own cock.

"Harder, now."

Happy to oblige, Obi-Wan settled into position and began to pound his lover steadily. He felt open and raw and needy, and at the same time powerful, hungry and strong. Each emotion originated in one heart, but was shared between two.

Orgasm crashed down on them like a black wall, but it didn't stop the sharing. Somewhere in the back of his mind Obi-Wan could feel Master Windu and unnamed others sharing this wave with them. He welcomed, them, too, as part of it.

Qui-Gon held his cock and held Obi-Wan, who slid free, then bent his head to his master's body. Cleaning him with his tongue, the taste of him bitter and smoky, he wondered that he'd ever felt hungry. To feed on the bond should be enough to sustain him for the rest of his life.

The tongue-bath reawakened other needs. He was taken in turn. On his stomach, ass in the air, Qui-Gon holding Obi-Wan's buttock's tight to his groin as he rubbed and rubbed and panted, Obi-Wan squirming with desperate desire until finally, finally, he clenched and came, moaning with a throat too Tired to make sound.

He woke with no idea of what day it was or what time. Qui-Gon slept peacefully, half-covering Obi-Wan with his heavy weight. A warm, comfortable weight, but Obi-Wan's body was now demanding other things. Like liquids.

He slid from beneath him with a kiss to quiet him, padded to the 'fresher and took care of necessities. Juice and water, a glass of each, and he felt restored physically. But already he was aching to touch Qui-Gon again. that would fade soon, he knew. So he chose to enjoy it while he could.

Climbing back into the bed, thinking now would be a good time for a little healing, so that they could safely make love again, his eye was caught by a small holopic sitting on a shelf beside the bunk.

He lifted it, and stared.

Knights Cur-Wil and Nik-Hal grinned at him. Their arms around each other's shoulders, dressed in the light robes some wore in hotter environments, they looked remarkably beautiful.

And alive.

I knew you would want to remember them that way

He turned his head, setting the holo down.

Qui-Gon touched his face, one rough finger. The gentlest of caresses.

Not as we saw them last

A sob filled Obi-Wan's throat. He pitched forward and was held close, big arms tight around him. Strong hands stroked his back.

Cry, t're. Cry for what we have lost, the loss of the Order. Cry for what you suffered. Cry for the children and all who have ever been hurt, or lost, or hungry

Obi-Wan did. Sobs tore from him like breath. It hurt, inside.

Cry and you will heal. Cry and I will comfort you

The storm passed. He managed to raise his head, and meet Qui-Gon's eyes.

"How did you know?" his voice was creaky, his throat sore. Healing was a definite possibility now.

"I will always know, Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon smiled at him, but his eyes were damp. "You understand now. I will always know."

Secure in that knowledge, Obi-Wan lay down, and let Qui-Gon heal the hole in his soul.


End file.
